Monster Hunter Tri: Through Blood and Tears
by MetallicVolume
Summary: Four hunters on the verge of making it big are about to accept a Quest that will put them through hell, more than they truly believe...
1. Chapter 1  Prologue

**Monster Hunter: Through Blood and Tears**

**Chapter 1**

All was quiet in the city of Loc Lac. Which was a first, because normally the bustling city would be thriving with energy.

Merchants of all kinds began closing shop for the night, while the more stubborn kept theirs open, determined to get the last customer in the final hours of the day, trying to get them to buy exotic wares and the like.

Hunters returning from their latest triumph, and for some…their defeat, slowly slumped towards either their homes or towards the tavern for a quick drink. Half the time those quick drinks would end up having them passed out, sprawled across the floor.

Yet the life of a hunter remains the same. Go out, risk your life, and get out alive.

For some it was all for the zenny, or currency in the city of Loc Lac.

For others, it was about the glory: the glory of becoming the most successful and the most powerful group of hunters around.

It was dream rarely reached, and a dream many never get to see.

However, on this particular night, one group of hunters, unaware of it at the moment, have an opportunity for such a goal. It will put all of them to the very best of their ability.

Whether they make it or not…remains to be seen…

**Day 1**

Ton hated waiting. Normally he didn't mind it so much. Originally it gave him a chance to gather his thoughts, such as what rewards his group might receive, or what dangers they may encounter on their next quest.

However, he found himself lying back on a bench next to a dinner table in the Tavern, listening to the boastful chants of overconfident rookies who had just probably slain their first Great Jaggi by the skins of their teeth.

He couldn't blame them, though. It seemed like it was just last month that he and his party of hunters had slain a Barroth. At the time, it was Ton's first opportunity to engage an ordinary creature of the Sandy Plains with a full group of hunters. The rookie at the time was Matthew, who proved himself to be quite the admirable Gunner. Never before had Ton seen so many "Pierce" shots get lodged straight in a Barroth's tough, mud-coated forehead without getting rammed. Yet Matthew did it, and since then, Ton has appreciated and respected the younger one.

He sat up, sighing over both the memories and of the migraine the rookie hunter group were starting to give him.

Stepping away towards the bench, he headed down towards the Market section of Loc Lac. Although, he had no intention of buying anything. He was only trying to clear his head and enjoy the crisp, dry desert air.

One could wonder how so many could even stand Loc Lac at all. You would think a city full of hunters would turn most rich folk towards madness and set up a living elsewhere, but it turns out the rich folk were the ones keeping the Guild in business. The more money the hunters made, the more the Guild gets rewarded. And the more the Guild pays for supplies and provisions for the hunters, the more zenny was given to the rich. In the end, it created a cycle to keep everybody happy.

Ton had grown accustomed to this life cycle, and personally enjoyed every minute of it. Stretching, he gave a yawn. A pretty loud yawn, mostly due to his fatigue and aching bones. His tiredness evaporated when he was lightly shaken on his shoulder.

Turning, Ton realized it was Matthew, his helmet off and his rifle strapped across his back.

"Better not let Kross see you do that. You know he'll pester you about being tired," he said with a sizable hint of bantery.

Ton snorted, rather displeased with the hunter's name being mentioned. "I don't care what Kross tells me. I'm still as good a hunter as he is, and he needs to learn to respect that."

Matthew shrugged, sitting down on a barrel and began cleaning his rifle's barrel with a cloth.

Ton wasn't really in the mood for discussing about Kross, the veteran hunter that had existed in their group for a little over two years now. Wiping his brow from the humid air, he glanced back at the Tavern. "You seen Jason anywhere?"

Matthew shrugged. "You know the boss. Always preparing for whenever and whatever," he said, glancing down the rifle's sight.

"He's been like that for as long as I've known him, I'll admit. Never seems to rest-"

"-and you're any different?" Matthew chuckled.

Ton looked away, a little flustered from his teammate's statement. Wanting to completely avoid the topic, he commented on Matthew's rifle, a really rare gun known as the "Aquatimatic Longshot".

"The barrel is getting a little rusty."

"Yeah, who'd have thought?" Matthew replied, adding a little to Ton's relief he wouldn't bring up the original topic again. "I seriously need to take this down to the Forge before our next quest; otherwise this entire gun will be useless."

Ton scoffed, a little bewildered at this. "You're joking."

"What?"

"You've slain over twenty Rathalos with that thing. Your armor is proof of that," Ton responded.

"Yeah? What are you getting at?"

"What I'm saying is: If you can withstand almost being roasted alive twenty times, then chances are your gun can withstand just as long without being useless by…_rust,_" Ton stated.

Matthew looked baffled, unsure of what to make of Ton's attitude. Finally, a smitten and teasing smile crossed his face. "You're either worried about Jason's next decision, or that he's quitting, aren't you?"

"Q-quitting? P-preposterous!" Ton spat, completely aghast at his friend's babble. "Where in the name of-?"

"Yeesh, keep your pants on…" Matthew muttered. "I'm only pulling your leg. No need to be so tense."

Ton sighed. "I suppose I_ may_ have been a little on edge lately-"

"Hmph, may have? I knew you were full of it, Ton, but really, what an understatement."

Ton winced hearing the gruff sounding voice of his last teammate.

Kross, casually inspecting his helmet while leaning against a pole right in the shadows, chuckled at the glint it gave. "You know, if you were gonna have a group conversation, the least you could have done is invite me," Kross said in a mocking tone.

Ton regained his composure, his slight anger slowly reforming into malice. "Hiding in the shadows tonight, are we, Kross? I must say, such low standards, even for you."

"You want me to come out? Fine," Kross chuckled, which sounded like metal grinding against one another.

Kross indeed did step out, revealing the sinister looking Alatreon armor he wore, which glistened in the moonlight like a black, sparkling sun.

Ton paid his due respects to that armor which Kross wore. Fighting an Alatreon and making armor out of one was no easy task, but to do it alone? Only Kross was that crazy and experienced.

And then there was the eye-patch.

Ton _hated_ the eye-patch.

It was said that long ago, during Kross's rookie years as a hunter, he was ambushed by a simple dozen Jaggi. Many of them inflicted minor bite wounds, but one managed to get him in the eye. Kross, who at the time was a young brown coyote, had to abandon the quest he was doing and returned to one of Loc Lac's doctors. It was a lost cause, and despite resilience, the doctor had to amputate Kross's eye.

Since that day, Kross always wore that eye-patch, as a sign of his older days and as an accessory of fear.

Kross squinted his one green eye down on Ton, looking him over. "You ever gonna decide to equip some _real_ armor?"

Kross was referring to Ton's armor, made entirely out of Alloy.

Ton scoffed, quite proud of the armor that he wore. "You ever gonna stop being such a dick?"

Kross spat onto the ground, quite disgusted by his teammate's posture. He stepped forward, glaring down at him, muttering, "I've killed people who've said that."

Luckily, Matthew casually separated the two from any dispute, which to Matthew was every other day. "C'mon, guys. Last thing we need is a fist fight. We're all exhausted, and we need all the rest we can get."

The two hunters glared at each other, but it was Ton who backed off first, clearly understanding the situation. "Matthew has a point. I'd rather not miss our next quest because of getting into a fight with some reckless barbarian."

"Hey," Kross said, grinning a little too maliciously. "I'm right here whenever you decide to grow the balls to strike first. I've got a hunger for blood tonight, and unless you want to end up first-"

"Can it," Matthew said impatiently. "Both of you."

Both hunters backed off.

Matthew grinned. "There we go. _Laissez-faire._"

Ton nodded. He had to admit, Matthew sure knew how to say the right words to get everyone to relax. Even though Ton didn't know a single word of French.

"I see you two still haven't gotten along."

Everyone turned to see none other than Jason, wearing his prized set of Lagiacrus armor. His stare was enough to send shivers down your spine, mostly because an annoyed Jason to the group...was simply bad.

He glanced at all of them, but mostly focusing on Ton and Kross. "Well? What's it about this time? And don't tell me you're fighting over drinks again."

Both hunters didn't say a word.

Jason sighed, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "Whenever you're both done, get to the tent. ASAP."

And with that, Jason walked away.

Matthew blinked, scratching the back of his head. "Usually the boss is rather chatty…"

Ton also noticed this slight change in their leader's attitude. "Something's up. I'm sure of it."

Kross merely scoffed and walked towards the direction Jason moved to just a few seconds earlier. "No shit."

Matthew and Ton watched their tank of an ally steadily move his way down the path. Matthew peered to Ton. "Remember I said you were worried about him quitting?"

"Yes. It was merely a joke, if I recall."

Matthew shrugged. "Who am I to tell?"

And with that, Matthew adjusted the strap containing his gun and followed.

Ton was left standing there in the humid air, thinking about his comrade's words.

_God, I sure hope I'm not right…_ Ton thought, and swiftly proceeded into the night.


	2. Chapter 2  A New Quest

**Monster Hunter Chapter 2**

Ton could not remember the last time he had seen Jason so serious about something. And that was a first; normally he was always uptight about everything, from slaying monsters to making sure every bit of supplies were ready to be shipped.

That's just who he was. Yet Ton could admit that he was damn good with a blade.

Coming up to their team's tent, he acknowledged the various, and somewhat revolting, trophies that they had gathered over the course of their six year history.

He passed a Great Jaggi, the sign of the start of a new hunter. Ton had gotten the honors of slaying the thing before Kross had the chance to smash its brains in with his gargantuan hammer. And stuff like that looked completely sickening to most people, so they agreed it was for the best. The Jaggi itself, however, only sparked his growing rivalry and hatred between him and Kross.

He then passed the Qurupeco, its beak folded in half like cardboard.

Ton sighed. _Also_ the work of Kross. But Ton decided that what Kross did was necessary. After all, the blasted bird was about to summon a Deviljho, and God knows what might have happened when that occurred. Their group was good, but even they knew fighting a Deviljho was a reckless and foolhardy decision, especially when your main target is something else entirely.

Ton passed many more of their trophies, ranging from the Lagiacrus itself, all the way to the tiniest Uragaan the world had ever known.

Ton merely scoffed at that little, rigid head of the rock hard chinned monster.

Tiny, and even somewhat cute, but the little guy hit like a _tank_.

"Brings back memories, eh?"

Ton turned to see Matthew, leaning against the wall outside of their debriefing room. He was smiling, obviously reminiscing the memory, too.

"You _still_ owe me a Max Potion for that, you know," Matthew joked.

Ton lightly slugged him on the arm, making him rub his shoulder. "Oh, get eaten," Ton replied, a faint grin crossing his face.

Crossing into the briefing room, he noticed Kross lying down in his bed, and Jason, sitting in a chair, discussing things with a Felyne, whom Ton recognized as their housekeeper, Clawdia.

"Make sure to let everyone who wants to meet us outside knows we're busy," Jason was saying. "I've got a very important meeting with everyone…and I'd rather not have the news spread out to the general public. And more importantly, I'd rather not have the guild riding my ass about this."

Clawdia purred, quite intrigued by her master's shrewdness. "_Meeeow_, zis iz certainly ahnlike you…" she cajoled, her thick German accent radiating the very room they stood in. "Yoosually you are villing to ellow zose fet kets in ze guild to promote vatever awcomplishments zis groop hes to offer…"

Ton could have sworn he heard gears working in Clawdia's head. He witnessed her sly, mischievous grin slowly widen into something truly creepy, making him shiver.

Clawdia purred again, her sparkling, jade eyes gleaming with anxiety. "…Zis is something good, yes?"

Jason gave a slight smile. "Yes. Something that might just-," Jason glanced up, noticing Ton standing in the doorway, along with Matthew. "…well, I'll explain later. The group has gotta come first, Clawdia."

Clawdia bowed, taking notice of the rest of the team. "Very vell, Master. No visitors."

Clawdia took her leave, excusing herself to the two hunters standing in the doorway.

Ton shook his head, walking inside and regarding Jason with an awkward glance. "I _still_ don't understand why you couldn't have gotten a _normal_ Felyne…"

Jason sighed, standing up and stretching his back. "She keeps everything tidy. Not to mention she always keep her word. She hasn't disappointed me in the five years she's worked for us."

All the hunters quietly gathered around the table. Ton and Kross, as usual, sat on opposite ends from each other, and sat as far away from the other as possible.

Jason lit the candlesticks that spread across the table, giving the room a very eerie and yet refreshing glare.

The candles flickered and cracked on their posts, giving the air a crisp taste.

Matthew was the first to break the silence. "So…what's with all the secrecy?"

Jason almost seemed to ignore the question entirely, staring into the wall across the room like he was in some sort of trance. He spoke only two words.

"Good news."

Everybody's ears perked up at that.

Jason noticed this, and seemed to lighten up out of his originally tense mood. "I know you're all fatigued from our last quest two days ago. And I don't blame you. I'm still feeling sore."

"Freakin' Uroktor…" Kross grunted.

Jason paused before continuing. "Well, get rested. We've got another Quest to deal with tomorrow afternoon."

Everyone blinked, quite astonished with this. Normally hunters would take some sort of break before heading out on another Quest. After all, rest was important to a hunter; it keeps their attention span at its highest, so none of them would get killed…or worse.

"Wait…so soon?" Matthew inquired. "But-"

"Believe me, Matt. Normally, I'd say no to such a Quest," Jason interrupted. "But I believe we're ready for this one. And we've only got this chance to take it before one of the better groups gets it."

Ton sighed, a little embarrassed to admit that Jason _may_ have a competitive side. Their group was considered one of the most well-rounded and best groups in all of Loc Lac, but there were still some groups that were better.

Three of them, to be exact.

Teams Sure-shot, Raider, and the best of the best, Team Tank.

In a nutshell, these three groups had been always one step ahead of their group, usually performing some of the most unsurpassed tasks and challenges before their group could even lay a finger on them.

Team Sure-shot was a group full of Gunners. Normally, the idea of such a team was idiotic, even laughable; until news came around they slew two Barioths in less than twelve minutes. Upon bringing Loc Lac four amber-colored tusks, Ton could remember the wealthy civilians suddenly opening their coffers in exchange for them.

Team Sure-shot literally became famous overnight. Ton had even gotten to meet two of them, and he had to admit that they were kind, giving him some tips about how to track a monster even without any tracks at all.

Then there was Team Raider. Jason had somewhat constructed their team based off them, with the exception of Team Raider not having a Gunner.

Team Raider was nothing but ill-tempered and hot-headed. Rookies would learn well enough to avoid them.

The scariest part was that they were all women.

Ton shivered. He had gotten nailed by a flying mug during one night when they were arguing over who was to have the last gulp of Cola. He suffered a concussion and had to skip out on the Quest they were about to do.

And finally, Team Tank.

Ton had never really known much about them. Then again, neither did Loc Lac itself.

They kept to themselves, living in one of the highest mansions atop the mountains. Only the Guild was allowed to have any form of contact with them, and even then, the conversations were brief.

Jason _hated_ them.

And Ton couldn't blame him. Everything they did…was beyond flawless. Sometimes they returned from a six-starred Quest, without a dent or scratch on any of their armor. One had to wonder how they do it. Ton could only think of it as years and years of experience…but to everyone's bewilderment, their age was unknown.

Ton sighed. Thinking about them almost made him forget that his team…didn't exactly have a name. It was just sort of out there, and who could blame them? You don't exactly get a lot of attention being the fourth greatest hunting group Loc Lac had ever seen, and that's saying something.

"So what's it about?" Ton said, breaking out his memories. "How many stars?"

"Six…," Jason replied simply.

Kross whistled. "Now you're talking my style. It's been a while since you decided to man up and take a six-starred Quest-"

"-Gold-starred." Jason finished.

The room went silent.

"_...Oh, merde." _Matthew muttered, his eyes widening.


	3. Chapter 3 The Demonic Trio

Monster Hunter: Through Blood and Tears: Ch. 3

Not a breath was drawn. All three hunters were both appalled. Never had they once had the opportunity to take on a golden six starred Quest, so in all understanding…they had a reason to be speechless.

Six star Quests themselves were known as a nuisance for most hunters and their groups, with the exception of Team Tank. They were considered the toughest Quests to ever hit the Guild's curiosity, which is why the Guild placed gold stars on them.

Very few hunting groups completed them, and half of those groups were lucky enough to escape by completing the Subquests.

Yet Jason blatantly blurted it out: They were doing one.

Ton thought he had suffered _otitis media_. He blinked twice, unsure of how to react. This was normally something that even Jason avoided. Something had to be up if he were willing to take such a huge risk.

And apparently, Matthew and Kross were taken aback just as much as he was.

"_Dites-moi que vous plaisantez_!" Matthew blurted, for a second forgetting that he normally spoke only English.

Kross peered at Matthew, slightly snickering at his French outburst. "I must say, Jason, you must have been either out of your mind, or you're being really competitive, because you surprised Matt so much he literally spoke an entire sentence in French," he said with one of his signature chuckles.

Jason noticed how tense Ton had gotten, and decided to speak again. "I know this may come off as a shock to you all, but I truly believe we're ready for this one."

Matthew had regained his composure by now, speaking slowly, "W-what's the Quest?"

Jason took a glance at Ton, whose fists were clenched on the table. He paused before speaking.

"The Quest is called **The Demonic Trio,**" Jason replied.

Ton suddenly jolted from his seat. Storming off towards the entrance, he knocked down some of their equipment.

Everyone only watched the frustrated hunter storm off. "…What's with him?" Matthew pondered, aghast.

Jason couldn't blame him. It was quite rare to see Ton lose his cool.

Kross, however, paid little to no attention to his teammate's exit. "**The Demonic Trio**, eh?" he inquired. "….didn't know that it was in season."

"It just got posted. Decided to take it before anyone else could," Jason answered.

"Wait. I don't get it," Matthew said, scratching his head while still looking at the doorway Ton had exited. "What's…**The Demonic Trio?**"

"Well, as Captain Obvious here stated, it's a gold, six-starred Quest." Kross said, casually peering into the inside of his helmet. "You haven't gone on much six star Quests in your life as a hunter, have ya?"

"No…I haven't." Matthew said, slightly annoyed with Kross's reference of his inexperience to the rest of the group.

"Well, simply put, they're Quests who put regular ol' six starred ones to shame," Kross said with a grin. "You thought handling two Barioths with limited supplies was difficult? Well, these take it to a whole new level."

"Oh, God. Enlighten me…" Matthew muttered, shivering about the Quest they had previously endured.

"Enough," Jason interrupted just as Kross had opened his mouth. "We don't to scare him, Kross. Keep it down a notch."

"Fine, then, Your Highness," Kross scoffed. "But the question still hangs in the air. Why did you choose it?"

"Well, the Quest we just took got me thinking," Jason replied. "We just took care of two Barioths with limited supplies. And at once. Not a lot of groups can say they did that. And those limited supplies were by choice. Chances are, I'd say we're experienced enough."

"Nobody has told me what's so important about this Quest yet…" Matthew muttered under his breath.

"Listen then, Junior." Kross spat, using the nickname he sometimes gave Matthew. "The **Demonic Trio** is a triple monster Quest that spans from the Tundra all the way to the Deserted Island, and everything in between."

Kross got up, grabbed himself a glass, and began walking towards the brewery. "The three monsters involved all have to be captured, no exceptions. And since this is a gold starred Quest, the Guild has to wait until all conditions are clear. That means they can't arrive until the weather is clear."

"But what if a Deviljho shows up and eats the captured monster?" Matthew inquired. "Or if the monster wakes up?"

"Then we have to do it all over again." Jason replied. "The Guild wants all three of them in mostly perfect condition; with the exception of the damage we give the monster."

"Meaning we'll have to defend that monster with our lives, or make sure it sleeps." Kross finished, pouring some beer into his glass. "The trickiest part is the transportation system. Unlike most Quests, this one takes place in all of the areas, meaning we'll get limited transportation between areas."

"Wait…so we have to _walk?_" Matthew complained.

"Bada-bing." Kross chuckled, sipping down his beer.

Jason noticed this with smug distaste. "I wish you wouldn't drink the night before we begin this, Kross…"

"I prefer alcohol over Master Cola any day. That stuff tastes like burnt meat dipped in Altaroth piss…"

Matthew scrunched his face before continuing. "So, then what? What monsters are we supposedly dealing with here?"

Jason pulled out a scrap of paper, supposedly the notes for the Quest. "One Diablos from Sandy Plains, a Lagiacrus from the Deserted Island, and one Popo the Tundra."

"A Popo? Seriously?" Matthew said, tilting his head.

Kross laughed, slightly amused by his teammate's confusion. "Don't you get it?"

"Get what?"

Kross twirled his glass, which amazingly didn't spill. "It's Barioth mating season in the Tundra this time of year."

"Oh…" Matthew said, his face turning pale. "Oh, crap."

"And the best part? We've only got a week to pull this off," Kross said with a sly grin. "And not to mention that even one of us gets knocked out, we're done. Unconscious is fine, but if you get into one of those temporary comas…game over."

Matthew shuddered, trying to avoid the thought of him being on the verge of death.

"Besides that, though, it'll get us noticed." Jason said briefly, slipping the paper back into his armor. "We leave tomorrow afternoon, which gives us plenty of time to prepare tomorrow morning. Visit the merchants; we're going to need lots of stuff. Ancient Potions, Pitfall and Shock Traps, Drugged Meat, you know the lingo."

"Hmph. What about Ton, though?" Kross said, whom at this time was slightly drunk, yet impressively still looked and acted sober. "As much as I think he's reacting to this a _little_ badly…we're gonna need to convince him-"

"Won't be a problem," Jason responded quickly. "I'm going to convince him. It was my fault for starting this, so I'll be the one to finish it."

Jason got up, briefly glancing at the two of them. "Get some sleep. We get up at dawn. And believe me, before you complain…" he said with a slight chuckle. "We're going to need all the time we can get."

He walked off, leaving Matthew and Kross alone in the tent.

Matthew awkwardly gazed at Kross, who now appeared to be drunk. "…How many of those things have you had tonight?"

Kross chuckled, wobbling towards their bedroom. "Five."

"Magnifique…" Matthew muttered. "Clawdia? You still there?"

The German Felyne came in, bowing before him. "Someting I can help yoo vith?"

"Bring a bucket into my bedroom, please. Kross is drunk."

"Again?"

"Yes, and chances are he's sleeping on the top bunk."

"Very vell, Mester Mezzew." Clawdia replied, her accent showing her inexperience with the English language.

"Thanks," Matthew replied, handing her ten zenny. "Really, you're a great help."

"Anyting to serfe yoo, mein freund." Clawdia said, walking to the storage area of their tent.

"It's gonna be one hell of a long night…" Matthew said with a yawn. "But not as busy as it will be tomorrow morning."

He walked into the bedroom, retiring for the day.

**End of Day 1**


	4. Chapter 4 Preparation: Part 1

Monster Hunter: Chapter 4

_Authors note: Sorry if this chapter seems a little rushed._

_Edit #2: Added subtitles to this due to a review pointing out that lots of people may not understand certain languages.. You know who you are, and I thank for the advice.  
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"_You hit home runs not by chance, but by preparation." ~ Roger Maris_

**Day 2**

"Aufwachen!(Wake up!) Aufwachen, Mester Mezzew! Yoo vill be lete!"

"Hm, wha-? Whazzat...?" Matthew muttered, opening his eyes to see Clawdia's jade colored eyes staring directly at him.

"Oh, gott sei dank (thank God), yoo ere ahwake..." Clawdia said with a sigh. "Mester Jason; he told me to vake you. It is dawn; yoo should be getting ready!"

Matthew sighed, rubbing his head. "I apologize, Clawdia...couldn't get much sleep last night through Kross's groaning and vomiting..." He suddenly snapped himself into a worried state. "He...didn't choke, did he?"

"Zat hunter iz ze purrrrime exahmple of eh meestery," Clawdia snickered. "He may be experienced, but he iz as foolish az eh newborn kitten!"

"But he's okay, right?"

Clawdia nodded. "Yes, Mester Mezzew. He iz...how you say, enduring ze hangover, but he iz fine."

Matthew got up, finding his armor hung up on a clothesline. "Thanks, Clawdia. I'm going to change now. Let Jason know I'll be out in a little while."

Clawdia bowed. "As yoo vish, Mezzew."

Matthew watched her close the tent curtain, shaking his head in bewilderment. "Hard to belive Ton has such a dislike to her..."

Matthew stepped outside, noticing Kross sitting on the bench of the debreifing room, his head down and a cup of coffee in his hand.

Matthew poked him, a little worried he might be in a bad mood after his drunken attitude last night.

To his relief, Kross shook him off. "Leave me in peace, Junior..."

"I was just checking you didn't just die on us, especially on what we're about to accomplish."

Kross sat up, heavy bags underneath his eyes, and rubbed his own head. "Remind me never to drink again..."

Matthew, despite having some sort of slight dislike to how Kross normally treated him, couldn't help but feel bad at his current state. He saw that despite the hardened monster hunting veteran body and will he had, he was still as vulnerable as everyone else in their group.

Matthew patted him on the back, turning to leave. "Just try to take it easy when you leave. One cup of coffee isn't going to make it evaporate from your system."

Kross raised his glass. "Second glass. One for the hangover, and this one for waking up."

Matthew couldn't help but chuckle.

Kross was, luckily, still himself.

Jason sat on a barrel in the middle of the marketplace. As much as he tried to hide it, he couldn't. He was honestly _really_ excited for what his group was about to attempt. He had sharpened his blade, an Eastern weapon known as Chak Chak, so much that he completely used up his entire whetstone.

And the buzz in the air wasn't helping him calm down, either.

Many of the townsfolk had heard about his group taking on their upcoming Quest, and some had gathered to offer words of advice. It's not like he hadn't heard most of the stuff they said to him already, but it meant a lot.

He knew, however, that his group would have to operate at 120%, and the supplies they needed had to be spot on.

Too little supplies spelled certain doom.

Too much meant slow transportation, and not to mention an empty wallet if they failed.

Standing up, he strapped his blade and shield to his back, and then checked to make sure his armor was on tightly. He checked his mobility with them when he had chased Ton through the marketplace last night.

Jason had to admit, Ton's Alloy armor made one think if he had unlimited stamina. Despite that, though, Jason had convinced him to join the Quest, if not in the politest way possible.

"Better make sure the others are awake…" he said with a yawn.

Turning around, he ran straight into another hunter.

"Ow! What the…?"

Jason rubbed his head, suddenly wishing he had put his helmet on, too. Glancing upwards, he noticed the hunter he had run into, a man about in his mid-twenties, clothed in Baggi Gunner armor…

"Neon," Jason said with a chuckle. "We gotta stop meeting like this."

"You're one to talk," the man known as Neon replied with a chuckle. From his voice, you could've sworn he was still a teenager, yet the scars on his upper lip and forehead signified is adulthood. "Word on the market is that your group is takin' on the **Demonic Trio**…"

"You were told correct."

Neon whistled. "I swear, you're either really brave, or really, really suicidal."

Jason laughed a little, knowing full well that Neon was only joking. "Hey, you do what you have to do. Besides, I can't be letting my team get shown up by a bunch of Gunners. Do you have any idea how many times I've heard people say about how '_Team Sureshot_ _has the intelligence among the greatest scientists that have ever walked the planet?_ '"

"Can't deny the truth, right?" Neon answered with a rather coy grin.

Both of them shook hands, marking the end of the humor factor of their conversation. Jason had to admit, Neon and _Team Sureshot_ were a pretty nice group. He respected them, mostly for not letting their fame get to their heads. They also shared a common interest: giving pointers and encouragement to every other group there was.

There hadn't been such a group since _Team Arc_, one of the first hunting groups to ever come out of Loc Lac. Before _Team Tank_ rolled along, they were considered the greatest group to ever exist, despite at the time their prehistoric-like weapons and strategies.

"So, what convinced you?" Neon said, shaking Jason out of his reminiscence. "To take the Quest, I mean."

"Mostly the fact that I believe this is our moment. To make ourselves more well-known. Now, I'm not saying we're trying to outshine you guys, but-"

"-But you are." Neon interrupted with another sly grin.

Jason crossed his arms. "Precisely. But only because I think that _Team Raider_ is a lousy excuse for a hunting party."

"It's more than that. Don't try hiding it from me, Jason. I've known you far too long to keep secrets," Neon said, his eyes appearing to gaze into Jason's soul, as if he were searching for the truth in them.

"Well, fine. In all honesty…" Jason paused.

"It's about _Tank_, isn't it?" Neon questioned.

Jason didn't reply.

Neon sighed. "Dammit, Jason. You've can't have their popularity get to you-"

"It isn't about their popularity," Jason said with a slightly annoyed tone.

"Then _what is it_, then?" Neon asked exasperatedly.

Jason sighed. "Here's the thing…"

Matthew strolled out into the marketplace, both dazzled and in awe about the amount of civilians that were there today. He had been in the market many times before, but never during a time when there was such a buzz in the air that it could kill an Alatreon.

Shaking his head, he took out a well-sized sack of zenny. "Let's see…five thousand. That'll be enough to get me some ammo types, as well as some other basic supplies. Mega Potions, Hot Drinks, Flash Bombs…maybe some Air Philters, in case the Lagiacrus battle goes underwater-"

"Goddammit, will you _please_ just speak English?"

Matthew perked up at the shout he had just heard. "That…sounded like Ton."

Rounding a corner, he indeed noticed Ton, hands on top of head. He looked like he was ready to burst, and Matt could have sworn he was seeing steam vent through his ears.

"Ton? Something wrong?" he asked.

Ton turned to him, and to his relief, saw him relax a little. "Nothing much, just this freakin' merchant isn't giving me my goddamn Sonic Bombs."

Matt looked at the merchant, instantly recognizing him at the Tools merchant, an Italian man that most people refer as Spiel.

Matt blinked, seeing that Spiel didn't exactly look entirely pleased himself. Turning to Ton, he raised one of his eyebrows. "And why is he not giving them to you?"

"I don't know. I don't speak Italian," Ton grumbled. "And even if I did, I don't see the reason why he doesn't give me my items."

Spiel sighed. "_Cazzo __me,__ siete __ignoranti..."(Fuck me, you're ignorant...)  
><em>

"I swear, if I hear even one more word of Italian out of you-" Ton started, but Matthew put his hand over his mouth before anything escaped.

"Relax. You know he only understands English, and not speaks it," Matt said calmly.

Turning to Spiel, Matt cleared his throat.

"_Perché non__ ti dà__ il mio amico __le sue bombe __soniche__?" (Why are you not giving my friend his Sonic Bombs?) _ he asked, embarrassed._ "Perdonami__. __Parlo __poco __italiano.__.." (Forgive me. I speak little Italian.)  
><em>

To his relief, Spiel seemed to relax a little himself, as he tapped the table with his fingers. "_Il tuo ami co__mi deve ancora__ i soldi__ da__ l'ultima missione__."(Your friend still owes me money from the last mission.)  
><em>

Matt nodded. "_Quanto __lo __devi?"(How much does he owe?)  
><em>

The merchant scratched his head. "_Vediamo__...trenta." (Let's see...thirty.)  
><em>

Matt turned back to Ton, who sat there, bewildered by the conversation. "He says you still owe him thirty zenny from the previous quest."

Ton stared at him, appearing not to have heard what he has just said. "You speak Italian?"

"A little. Now pay up," Matthew said, giving him a light punch on the shoulder.

Ton grabbed thirty zenny from his pocket, and grabbed an additional five hundred and placed them on the table. "Tell him that I apologize, and that there's a little extra in that than from what I bought," he told Matt, embarrassed.

"Will do," Matthew said with a smile, and then turned to Spiel.

_"Ecco __quello che __ti deve__. (Here is what he owes you.)" _Matt said, pointing at the thirty zenny, and then at the large pile of five hundred. "_E questo è__ per le bombe__ di Sonic__. __C' _è_ __qualcosa in più__ in là__ per voi, come__ una scusa __per la sua__ maleducazione__. (And this is for the Sonic Bombs. There is something extra in there for you, as an excuse for his rudeness.)"_

Spiel looked pleased, and, after putting the zenny in a chest, came back with six Sonic Bombs. "_Ci si va.__Usali__ con saggezza.__Queste cose__ non sono economici__, __e sono una __spina nel fianco__ per rendere__...(There you go. Use them wisely. Those things aren't cheap, and are such a pain in the ass to make...)" _

Matt turned to Ton. "And there you go."

Ton sighed, looking apologetically at Matthew. "I'm sorry. I've just been so stressed since last night..."

Spiel rolled his eyes. _"Sul serio__...(No kidding...)" _ he muttered under his breath.

"We all are. But it'll be fine," Matthew said. "Just gotta keep our heads up. Just imagine this as any other Quest."

Ton nodded, and walked off without a word. Matthew thought he had heard him sigh, but he decided to let him be.

Turning back to Spiel, he smiled. "Sorry that he was causing you so much grief."

Spiel sighed. "_Suppongo che__ non si può__ farne a meno._ _Spero solo che__, __per il tuo bene__, __che__si riprende __prima di iniziare __la vostra ricerca__.__ (I suppose one cannot help it. For your sake, however, I hope he recovers before your Quest.) " _

Matthew sighed, and nodded. "Yeah...yeah, I hope so too."

Matt was suddenly surprised when a strange-colored looking horn flew into his hands. It was some strange, rough looking horn, with a very distinct red slash along the side. Spikes were engraved on its underside, which reminded Matthew of...

The Italian smiled, leaning back on his stool to provide some slight shade from the hot desert sun. "_Questo è __qualcosa che ho __lavorato pe r__un po'.__Nemmeno __in magazzino__ ancora__. __E qualcosa__ mi dice che __voi e il vostro__ gruppo__ avrà bisogno, (This is something I have been working on for a while. Not even in stock yet. And something tells me that you and your group will need it.)"_ he said with a smile. "_Si può avere__. __Gratuito. (Keep it. Free of charge.)" _

Matthew smiled, unsure of what to think of the horn itself, but happy to receive a free item, especially from one of the most trustworthy Tool merchants in all of Loc Lac. "_Grazie mille. (Thanks a lot.)"_

"_Non__ dirlo__, __amico. (No problem, friend.)"_ Spiel replied, and retired to the back of his tent.

Matthew put the horn into his supply sack, then looked around. "I still have a good five or so hours before we depart...might as well get the rest of my things."

Matt continued to walk deeper into Loc Lac, unaware of the pair of eyes that happened to be watching him from behind...


	5. Chapter 5 Preparation: Part 2

**Monster Hunter: Chapter 5**

_Author's Note: Forgive me. I was caught up for months, with very little time to update. I plan to make the next few chapters worth your while, though, because after this chapter, the Quest finally begins! Stay tuned, because I am BACK! _**  
><strong>

Kross had eventually found his way outside the tent, the effects of last night's hangover slowly dispersing. He adjusted his normal clothing, feeling quite awkward without his normal heavy armor on.

Looking around slightly, he pondered.

_I'm gonna need some items, not to mention Whetstones… _he thought almost absently. _Just like every other Quest…_

Letting out a rather bored yawn, he adjusted his eye-patch, and walked into a merchant's section most Loc Lac citizens would call the "Shady District", due to the con artists who liked to thrive there.

This pleased Kross. Mostly because he was smarter than most people would like to believe.

He had to resist releasing his sinister looking grin, lest he want to frighten of all of the merchants.

He gazed up at the sky, noticing the sun beginning to appear above the horizon, sending a stream of colors into the sky. Flashes of pink and purple danced across the sky in incredible streams. Clouds seem to bounce off each other as if they were alive, causing the seemingly still desert air to look absolutely beautiful.

"Boring," Kross yawned, unimpressed.

He pulled out his pouch of zenny, and began counting it.

"Hm…one thousand should-"

"Excuse me, good sir!"

Kross turned around, seeing a small, yet obviously wealthy merchant, due to his expensive tunic. He was standing there with a satisfied and intrigued smile on his face, while rubbing his hands together eagerly.

_He probably overheard me muttering about the money I'm carrying on me…_ Kross thought.

"I see you're a Hunter," the man said in a rather calm tone.

"Yes."

"Could I interest you in some of my wares, sir? I guarantee you that my goods could save an entire army of your kind!"

"…Okay," Kross mumbled. "But just to be sure, could I ask for one thing?"

"Of course!" the man said.

Kross sat down upon a barrel. "Bring me one Poison Smoke Bomb, please."

The man was gone before Kross even finished his sentence. Kross took this into consideration; for he knew about half of the merchants in this district gave most Hunters usually faulty items.

_Let's see where this guy stands…although I have a pretty good clue already._ Kross thought.

The man eventually returned, carrying a round, metallic object. "Here is the Poison Smoke Bomb you requested."

He handed it to Kross. "I must say, a man of your caliber must know what he is doing if he must have one of those! And I can assure you, those things are 100% beneficial!"

Kross examined it, his one eye gazing at the sheen the bomb gave off. "Is it now?"

"Indeed!" the man continued to boast. "And it can be yours for the low price of two hundred and fifty zenny!"

Kross couldn't hold back his smile any longer. _Got you now, asshole._

"That's way more than what these things normally cost, isn't it?" Kross said.

Kross satisfyingly noticed the man twitch, but pretended not to notice.

"E-excuse me? What do you m-mean?" the "merchant" queried.

"Well, from personal experience, these things normally cost _sixty_ zenny at every other bomb shop," Kross said casually. "That makes a difference of one hundred and ninety zenny. And not only that…"

He tossed it into the air, and caught it in his other hand. "The weight is off. These things are made of Bomb Sacs and either Toadstools or Poison Sacs off of a Gigginox, and both should be compressed enough to make this thing as light as a feather. Oh, and while I'm at it, the coloring scheme is terribly off. Regular bombs like this are a faded pink, not violet."

The man had begun sweating, although tried not to show it. "I can assure you that it is not faulty, sir."

"So if I were to say…I dunno…smash this at your feet…-" Kross raised the "bomb" over his head- "You and I wouldn't die of toxic inhalation?"

The man said nothing.

Kross tossed the bomb back into the now revealed con man's hands, feeling slightly amused. "You almost had me there."

He stood up, looking back at the horizon.

"I'd like you to imagine something. First, imagine you're a Gunner, who's got their back against a wall with only two shots left and with an angry Diablos charging straight at you. Could you do that?"

The man cringed, which told Kross that he had obviously thought about it.

"Now I'd like you to imagine walking into a pitch-black cave without a torch. And then all of sudden, when you least expect it-" Kross raised his hands dramatically, pretending to be in mock terror- "A Tigrex burst from the darkness, making you its dinner."

The man had started walking backwards slowly at this point, but Kross stood and followed him.

"Now imagine a group of carnivorous Altaroth munching on your body, tearing off your limbs and opening up your internal organs as they prepare to feast on your fluids…"

Kross chuckled menacingly, knowing full-well that Altaroth were actually herbivores, but was amused that this man did not know that little detail.

"Now imagine something ten times worse than that."

The man had paused, thinking that over. He had little time to react before Kross suddenly grabbed him by his throat, pulling him closer.

"Because if I hear from even one person that you tried to con somebody off of faulty goods, that is _exactly_ what I will do to you," he growled, throwing the man away.

The con artist scurried off down the street, dropping the "bomb" to the ground and nearly running into other civilians now entering the district.

Kross went over and picked up the bomb, staring in the direction he ran in with a look of innocent mischief. "Maybe I was too rough. I mean, all he did wrong was attempt to trick me with this thing's pricing."

He grinned, tossing the rather light Poison Bomb into a spare sack he was carrying. "Let's see…I hear there's a sale on Barrel Bombs not far from here..."

Tossing the sack over his shoulder, he walked on down the street. "Today is gonna be a good day."

Jason sat down on some stairs, after explaining his reason for loathing Team Tank to Neon.

Neon stared on down the stairs, nodding slowly. "So that's how it is, eh?"

"More or less," Jason replied gruffly.

"Look, it's not that I don't entirely believe you-"

"But you don't?"

"Oh, believe me. I do," Neon said. "I also believe that they're extremely secretive. And really, I'm sure that in their little mansion up there they believe they're in the status of gods. Egotistic? Perhaps. But cocky and stubborn?"

"It's just…" Jason paused. "I've seen how they work. Did I ever tell you that they were the ones who saved my life back in my early days, when I was not even five?"

"Didn't you say you came from that little town near the jungle? A community that was known as…uh…Kirnsput or something?"

"Kingspurt," Jason corrected.

"Then yeah, you did. It was all over the news boards. Your town was ransacked by a herd of Great Jaggi and their little cohorts. Because there were no guards at all there, your town was slaughtered and many of you went underground. What about it?"

"I happened to escape early during the time when they arrived. I watched them fight off every single one of them. At the time…I was amazed. They were everything I had imagined of about Hunters. They were coordinated, resourceful, brave and strong…" Jason trailed off, shaking his head. "And when they had finished every one of those Jaggi off and helped rescue the town, and even stayed to help bury the dead…not once did I detect modesty. I didn't think about it before, but I know now that they're nothing but heartless douchebags only in it for the money."

Neon was quiet the entire time, carefully listening.

Jason sighed. "I know everybody might not have the same view as me. But when people talk about the greatest Hunting Group that ever existed, I don't hear anything about a group that slays everything in its path and then praises the people for their continuing support, like Team Arc. All I hear is…" Jason clenched his fists, not even wanting to spit out the name.

Neon blinked. "I didn't think you would have taken those guys so personally," he said, looking back at the stairs. "Only now do I see why you chose to do the **Demonic Trio **quest. You're trying to show that it doesn't take a high-class team or good weapons or even popularity to do well in the world."

Neon patted Jason on the back, smiling a little. "Well, if that were the case, why didn't you just mention it earlier, you smug little devil, instead of confusing me with that long-ass speech?"

Jason, despite his earlier attitude, laughed. "You wouldn't have taken me seriously."

"Ah, whatever. You should probably get ready, though. I heard the airships are arriving early, and it might not be a bad idea to start and get it over with."

Jason nodded. "Right." He stood up, shaking Neon's hand. "Thanks for understanding."

"No," Neon replied. "Thank _you_ for making sense."

Jason strapped his sword "Chak Chak" onto his lower back, and made sure his shield fastened to his arm.

"Clawdia, could you get my helmet, please?"

Not long after he said that did the servant Felyne come in with the blue, intimidating helmet, the spikes along the helm glistening in the now apparent sunshine slipping in through the dusty windows of their tent.

Taking it from her, he examined it.

"Hard to believe that ten years have gone by so quickly, huh?" he said absently.

"Nein," answered Clawdia. "Yoo may tink zat, but in retrospect, it hes gone by razzer slowly."

"Well, I hope this Quest won't be slow…"

Clawdia looked around nervously, twiddling her claws together.

"Uh…boss?" she asked.

"What is it, Clawdia?"

"…Good luck," Clawdia replied simply.

"Don't worry."

Peering at the clock, Jason grabbed his supply pouch and strapped it to his hip. "Well…it's time."

He handed Clawdia a large bag. "You've been a really loyal servant, Clawdia. I think you've deserved this."

Clawdia stood, both baffled and dumbfounded at the huge sum of zenny that was in the bag. "Wiz zis amount, it iz az if zis vill be ze last time ve vill be seeing each ozzer, boss."

Jason chuckled. "Oh, we'll probably be badly banged up. But success or failure, we're coming back home."

Clawdia pretended to scratch at her forehead, but it was actually an attempt to hold back her tears. "I vill avait your return, boss."

Jason nodded. "Be back soon, Clawdia."

With a pat on her head, he left the tent, his helmet held promptly in his hand.

"Seems like everybody has arrived," Jason noted, seeing Kross walk up toward the docks, donned in his Alatreon armor.

"Well…almost everybody," replied Ton, who was sharpening his Great Sword with a Whetstone. "Matt still hasn't come back from the market."

Jason crossed his arms. "It's not like him to be late…I wonder where he-"

"Found him," Kross grunted, looking down the street leading to the docks to witness a Gunner in Rathalos armor sprinting towards them.

Ton blinked, watching him run up to them. "…the hell?"

"Sorry…g-got…caught…u-up…" Matthew said through bursts of panting.

"With what?" Jason inquired.

"T-Team Raider followed me…" Matthew said, trying not to blush. "Apparently they like Hunters who are polyglots…"

"Oh, for God's sake…" Ton said, looking absolutely disgusted.

"R-really, those four are worse than a pack of wyverns chasing you like you took their egg. I swear, I thought one of them actually _proposed_ to me…" Matthew shook his head. "Can you believe that? Me getting married? When I still have a _life_ to live?"

Jason shook his hand. "We get it. All I'm glad is that you managed to get here in…one piece."

Kross adjusted his gauntlets. "So, where's our ship?"

"Before I mention that…" said Jason, almost apologetically. "I have some important information to tell you about the Quest."

"Pff. Great. More good news…" Ton said disdainfully.

"Simply put, I figured that the easiest way to finish this Quest…would be that we split up."

Everyone froze at the realization of Jason's words. Not once in their career together had they had to perform something so drastic, so it came as a shock that the words were even mentioned.

"Split up?" Matthew said. "But…why?"

"Well, after thinking about the Quest again, I realized that there might be a chance that we either came over-prepared, or that we may not be quick enough," Jason said, crossing his arms. "Although I believe we're able to handle this Quest…I'm not sure if we could possibly handle capturing three monsters and keep them safe for the Guild's arrival at all, if we go after them individually. So that's why I recommend splitting up."

Ton nodded. "As crazy as it sounds, that is a good point."

"So here's my proposition," Jason said, leaning on his back against a wooden railing. "Two of us will take the airship and fly towards the Deserted Island and capture the Lagiacrus, while the other two take a ship and travel across the sand to get the Diablos. Any objections?"

"Nope," Matthew said with a nod.

"Whatever, I guess," said Kross.

"No objections out of me," replied Ton.

"Good," Jason said with a small smile. "Okay, Ton. You and Kross will head to the Deserted Island on the airship."

"Objection," Ton growled.

"Ton, before you even say it, I understand it. I get it. You hate Kross with every living fiber in your body. But here's the deal. Chances are the Diablos isn't as stupid as it usually is, which is why I need Matthew with me. He happened to bring some Exhaust and Freeze Shots with him, which will be important to taking the thing down. Besides, the two of you have faced many a Lagiacrus before, right?"

Ton sighed. "Of course we have. More than I'd like to remember, even. I'm just worried that…we'll let our rivalry take over instead of working together."

Jason nodded. "Then call a temporary truce, then. At least until we regroup."

Ton looked up at Kross, and Kross looked up at him.

Neither one of them said a word. Only nods were exchanged.

"Takes care of that problem," Kross grunted. "So what's this about regrouping?"

"After we both bag our distinctive monsters, the Guild will give us each a ride to a different location, which in our case will be the base camp in the Tundra. From there, we resupply ourselves, find a Popo as quick as we can, and defend it from any preying monsters. If we're lucky, the Barioth mating season will be near the peak of the mountain instead of near the ground," Jason answered. "Is that understood?"

Everyone nodded.

"All 'board who's comin' 'board!" yelled the captain of the airship.

"Well, this is it. Let's make history," Jason said simply, putting on his helmet and fastening it.

And thus did the four Hunters split up. On the airship went Ton and Kross, who were immediately greeted by the ship's crew.

And on the sand ship, preparing to move out to the Great Desert, was Jason and Matthew.

They all knew it was probably the last time they would see each other for a while. All they could do was hope.

Within the next five minutes, both ship set sail, to each of their designated spots.

The **Demonic Trio** had officially begun.


	6. Chapter 6 The Start

Monster Hunter Chapter 6

The tinged, dust-filled air that came into Ton's mouth when he breathed in was unbearable.

He had heard the stories on how rides on an airship were; it's just that he had never been on one to experience it for himself.

Shutting the door to the Captain's quarters, he coughed out a cloud of dust. The captain of the ship only chuckled, which only made Ton feel all the more humiliated.

"Aye, you'll get over it soon 'nuf," the captain said, who was a middle-aged yet burly man, who wore his crimson-colored beard and thick Scottish with enough pride to fill an empty barrel.

"Honestly, I'm surprised you and your crew haven't suffocated, being in this desert air for so long…" Ton replied.

The captain nodded, regarding the map on his desk. "Aye, but you needn't worry. Soon we'll be over the ocean. Air's cleaner there. A bit salty, perhaps. But definitely cleaner."

"What do you think will be the estimated time that we arrive at the Deserted Island?" Ton asked.

"Well, if these winds keep going in our favor, I'd say you and ye friend will be there in, say…an hour," the captain answered. "Stressed one, ain't ya?"

"Hmph. You could say that." Ton said, rather displeased with the captain's tone. "I suppose it's the damn weather."

The captain chuckled. "Sure."

Ton refused to speak of the topic, mostly because it wasn't the weather.

"Speaking of which," the captain continued. "Where's dat friend of yours? I s'pose it's me own fault I lose sight of a guy like him…"

"He's probably outside," Ton answered, peering out the window.

* * *

><p>Kross sat on the deck on the airship, listening to the sounds of the crew scurrying about the deck. Soaking up the desert sun, he waited, letting the combination of sand and wind brush against his face.<p>

In reality Kross found the current circumstances quite irritable; he wasn't one for waiting. Yet he showed no signs of weakness, like he had been doing for the last ten years. Out of boredom, he examined his hammer. The base of the hammer itself was definitely larger than any human being, and the horns along the lower portion of the base glimmered in a rustic and dismal fashion. It had been many years since he had slain the Deviljho that would unwillingly volunteer to sacrifice its chin for his hammer. The horns were always kept sharpened; the sheen always polished before every Quest.

Yet Kross couldn't keep his attention on it forever.

No matter how hard he tried to forget it, it always seemed to sneak up on him…slivering into his mind and bringing images of pain and remorse.

Images of blood.

Images of Jaggi…

Kross found himself touching his eye-patch with the claws on the ends of his gauntlets. Shaking himself back into reality, he growled at himself for looking so beaten.

_Being reminiscent won't fix an empty eye socket_…, Kross thought.

Brushing his way past some of the ship's crew, he moved his way across the ship, towards the stern of the deck. The wind, he noticed, was certainly blowing in their favor, as he was walking against the wind. He slightly pondered how long the trip itself would take if this tailwind kept up, then brushed it away as he reached the stern.

The ship's crew was well-trained, rushing back and forth to check on the ship's balloons and cannons. The cannons were not filled with cannonballs, but with spears. Kross understood that if they were filled with said cannonballs, the ship itself would risk being flipped, or even capsized under its own barrage. The use of spears provided a safer, and yet still deadly way of defense in case any monsters dared to fly in these air routes.

Kross focused his way towards the crow's nest, when he was halted by a young member of the crew.

"Sir, Second-Mate Henri would like to meet with you in the crow's nest," the crew member said with a salute.

Kross folded his arms. "I take it he's in charge of navigation, in association with being third-in-command…"

"Yes, sir. He said something about a storm or something up ahead…" the crew member said, then suddenly whispered to him. "To be honest, sir, I couldn't quite understand him."

Kross tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. "How so?"

"He's French, sir."

"Hmph," Kross grunted. "I have experience with French people. Don't worry about it."

"Very well, sir. If you'll excuse me now, I need to check the pressure on the balloons."

Kross nodded. "You're excused."

He watched the crew member walk away, and then peered curiously up at the crow's nest. Setting his hammer against a railing, he grabbed the end of the ladder that led upwards and climbed.

The combination of the wind and of the sudden tilting and swaying of the ladder made even Kross feel nervous, if ever so slightly. He wasn't afraid of the ladder falling backwards, as he was of heights. However, he tried to snuff that fear from being shown, and continued to climb, hoping his slow climbing speed would be overlooked by anyone who was watching.

To his anticipation, upon arriving at the top, there was a strange man, garbed in different clothing than what Kross had already seen from the other crew members. Whereas the crew often wore shaggy Eastern clothing, this man wore something entirely different.

He was wearing what appeared to be a woolen, cyan-colored jacket, which seemed to evaporate in the desert sky. It appeared to be quite heavy, as if he were visiting the Tundra, which would have astonished Kross, if he didn't think that it looked so stupid.

The pants he was wearing didn't help change that fact, either. They seemed to radiate in a dark, almost naïve-looking khaki color. To Kross, it was as if this guy belonged in the circus; not on a Guild-owned airship.

Kross knew he startled him, since the man had turned around and almost fainted on the spot, seeing a one-eyed hunter with his arms crossed, Alatreon armor glittering in the sun. He nearly dropped his telescope, which to Kross's relief, was Eastern, and not from whatever crazy area of the world he was from.

"_Mon Dieu, c'est comme si le diable lui-même apparaît devant mes yeux ..._"_ (My God, it's as if the Devil himself appears before my eyes…) _

Kross blinked. _Yep. This is definitely the guy._

The man, whom Kross figured was Henri, regained his composure quite quickly. "Well? What do you want?"

"You tell me," Kross replied. "You're the one who called me up here, if I'm not mistaken."

Henri blinked. "So you are the hunter we are guiding, oui?"

"Correct."

Henri muttered underneath his breath, trying to make it look like he got distracted: _"Il brille tellement, c'est une surprise que les monstres ne l'ai pas mangé tout prêt ..."_ (He glitters so much, it's a surprise the monsters haven't eaten him all ready…)

Kross grabbed Henri by the collar of his jacket. Clearly, the guise he had tried didn't work.

"English," Kross growled. "_Now."_

Kross threw Henri back to where he originally stood, mostly because he didn't want to completely scare the guy…yet.

"O-oui, bien sûr. (Yes, of course.) Well, as you may know, wind pressures up here are quite dry."

_No kidding. _Kross thought.

"Therefore, it is not possible for any form of weather to form, other than what we have now or a few clouds," Henri continued, sticking his hand out at the desert wind to prove his point.

"Well, obviously there's some sort of exception to what you just said, if you had to invite me up here," Kross said.

Kross then noticed Henri put on a puzzled face.

"W-well, that's true, monsieur. You see…I looked out ahead towards the northern current, which is our destination if when we are to hit the tropical air currents leading to the _Île déserte_. (Deserted Island.) And, well…"

Henri looked back over his shoulder, towards the north. Without warning, Kross yanked the telescope out of his hands, and held it up to his eye.

Kross looked, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, and relieved once again the strange thing in his hand was also of Eastern descent. He observed the air, which continued to push the airship forward. He noticed that at such heights it was possible to witness the air itself move. Besides that, nothing else seemed wrong to the grizzly veteran hunter.

It wasn't until he was about to claim Henri was a fraud did Henri himself placed his hand on the telescope, and moved it slightly to the right of where Kross was looking. "Right there," he said simply.

Kross blinked. He may not have been an atmospheric scientist, but even he knew that what he was seeing was not normal in their current location.

Looking back to Henri, he nodded.

Henri had begun sweating a little, peering back. "Should I tell the captain, monsieur?

Kross hesitated before replying.

"Yeah. That'd be best," he said simply, handing back Henri's telescope without taking his eyes off of the horizon.

Kross heard Henri mutter something, but this time he could hardly care. Something wasn't right; he could feel it in his bones.

They still had a few miles of desert left to cross, from what he remembered. But there, on the edge of where the desert met the ocean…

Kross grunted.

"It's just my luck to be on a ship heading into a damn hurricane."

* * *

><p>"Sonic Bombs?"<p>

"Check."

"Whetstones?"

"About twenty."

"Pitfall Traps?"

Matthew tossed Jason the trap. "Set and ready."

Jason blinked. "Is there anything you think you've forgot?

"I'd mention it, right?" Matthew answered.

Jason smiled a little. "Might Pills."

Matthew froze, much to Jason's amusement.

"Uh…store ran out. And the other dealers looked shady," Matthew fibbed.

The ship that both of the hunters were on made a sudden jolt against the sand, sending a stream of the coarse substance onto the deck.

Matthew frowned. "All of a sudden, I wish I'd taken the airship."

"And risk dying in a whole new level?" Jason joked. "At least if you fall here, we can send a rope to get you; can't say the same thing when you're three to five miles in the sky."

"Psh…_Parfois, je voudrais que vous enfermé_..." (Sometimes I wish you would shut up.) Matthew joked, using his advantage of a foreign language as leverage.

"Whatever the case…" Jason said. "We should be there in a matter of hours. After that, we can rest up while searching for a Diablos."

"We'll have to keep it quiet, you know." Matthew pointed out. "Those guys rely on sound, on account for their terrible vision. So we can't be sharpening weapons if they begin to become coarse."

Jason raised an eyebrow. "You don't even need to sharpen your weapon. It's a Bowgun."

"Exactly my point," Matthew said with a grin.

Jason shook his head. "Forget it."

Matthew stood up, wiping off the dust that was beginning to gather on his armor. "I'm gonna check the weapons we have on this thing. I'd hate to have to remove a Delex tooth from my ass if this ship is under-equipped."

"The crew hasn't been killed yet, have they?" Jason joked.

"I'll be the judge of that one, sir." Matthew said before walking off.

* * *

><p>Jason unfastened Chak-Chak from his back, testing the sharpness of the three edges, just in case. Casually glancing around, he observed the ship's crew moving around the deck, doing all sorts of tasks: cleaning the cannons, fastening and refastening ropes, or taking a break and sharing their stories with one another in their intriguing, foreign tongue.<p>

He felt rather uncomfortable in his armor, knowing full well he would have the advantage if he were fighting the Lagiacrus. He also knew his armor was thick; created by some of the finest smithies in all of Loc Lac.

Yet for some peculiar reason, those smithies couldn't even craft anything close to Earplugs, let alone the HG version of them.

It was simply something he would have to react to when the time came.

Flipping Chak-Chak and catching it by the end of the blade, his gauntlets protecting him from any embarrassment, he stifled a yawn. Trips like these had the tendency to be boring, even to him.

"Psh," Jason scoffed. "I feel like a rookie again…"

Upon flipping Chak-Chak, Jason noticed several images flashing upon the blades; the sound of the blade spinning creating a mysterious hum…

_*Vwoom*_

A bird. It was probably a hawk or an albatross. Very few animals that were not monsters were truly a rarity to be seen, and was considered to be good luck by the superstitious hunter.

*_Vwoom*_

A bright flash of yellow and orange, tinged with a hatred of other colors. Jason recognized this as a Lagiacrus's ball of electricity, an attack the monster used when charged by the high voltage electricity along the spikes on its back.

Such an attack could kill many unequipped hunters. It was probably a forewarning to be ready for the unexpected.

_*Vwoom*_

A broken sword, laying in an ash covered field.

_*Vwoom*_

The early morning dew dripping off of a peach-colored flower, soaking up the rays of a dying sun.

_*Vwoom*_

Jason blinked. Despite the rather creepy images his brain has portrayed, the last image he had seen looked more lifelike…

He was never superstitious, yet the earlier images seemed like a weird sign of foreshadowing. Then again, what else could they be?

Jason turned around, noticing only the sand that was sprayed by the ship fly past. "I'm sure I didn't just imagine that…" Jason blinked, confused.

Then he saw movement.

It wasn't unnoticeable; he knew that for certain.

Sheathing Chak-Chak, he quickly walked to the railing and looked out into the sand.

His eyes scanned the vast terrain for any sign of activity.

The horizon seemed like a very frail line to him, but out in the distance he could see nothing.

_SPSSH!_

Jason spluttered out the pile of sand that was sprayed into his eyes and mouth. Upon wiping the coarse substance from his face, he identified the culprit as a Delex, which continued its dolphin-like jumps alongside the ship.

Jason breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he was just imagining things. His team was starting the **Demonic Trio**, after all. It would have been natural that he would be a little bit nervous.

Then Jason saw another Delex. This one was a few feet from the first one.

Jason blinked as a third and a fourth appeared, then turned around to notice that more Delex were "swimming" along the port side of the ship.

Soon, there was a whole school of Delex. Jason looked at the excited crew who were gathering harpoons and mentioning something about stew.

Then it hit him.

Jason gasped and ran to the stern, climbing up its wooden frame and peering into the ship's spray.

His pupils dwindled to mere pinpricks at the sight of a huge lump of a monstrous, rocky hide protruding silently over the sand, then sink into the depths.

Leaping down, he noticed a crew-member, a preferably young and inexperienced one, salute him and watch him with wonder.

"Somethin' the matter, sir?"

Jason kept his voice level and calm, but couldn't keep his hand from shaking as he put it on the crewman's shoulder. 

"Tell the captain to set up the cannons immediately. We've got a Jhen on our tail and it's closing in fast!"


	7. Chapter 7 A Really Big Roadblock

Monster Hunter: Chapter 7

Ton walked into the interior of the airship to escape the oppressive rain that was battering the hull.

In a matter of half an hour, there was already talking coming from the crew about how the ship was headed into a hurricane. He had to wonder why he wasn't informed of this earlier, but he could only guess that it was only brought up at the last minute.

_Kross was out there when the news was spread…did he have something to do with this?_

Ton shook his head. He had promised Jason that their bitter hatred for each other wouldn't jeopardize the Quest, and he fully intended to keep it.

_Besides, now that I think about it, if Kross was the one to make the call, he would only do it for the right reasons._

Ton could hear his footsteps echo through the hall on his way to the War Room. The eerie silence was only drowned out by the muffled sound of the rain and wind, which billowed and wailed like a dying animal.

Ton shuddered. He had faced many monsters in his short lifetime, but Mother Nature could still spook the crap out of him.

He eventually made it to the War Room, and opened the door. Inside he was met with the slightly petrified expressions of the ship's captain and the ship's lookout, Henri. He spied Kross sitting on a crate, staring at a small window where the rain pattered against it.

Both the captain and Henri glanced up at Ton's entrance, and seemed to relax a little. Whether it was his arrival that calmed them down, or the idea that they didn't want to look afraid in front of him, he didn't know.

Ton unhooked his Great Sword from his back and set it against a wall. Popping out his shoulders, he walked toward the table they were gathered around, a sea chart spread across it.

The captain cleared his throat. "Oi, this storm is getting t'be quite the boot-shaker, so she is."

"Where did it even come from?" Ton inquired. "I'm familiar with hurricanes and how they originate and everything, but what I want to know is why here? Why now?"

Henri scratched his head. "Oui, it is very difficult to understand. We have barely made over ze sea."

The three of them heard Kross grunt in response, and turned to look. The grizzly-looking hunter had sat himself upright, looking directly at the three of them through his one eye.

"I don't think we're heading into an ordinary hurricane."

Ton scoffed. "Ridiculous. If this hurricane isn't ordinary, then I'm part of Team Tank."

Kross chuckled. "You wouldn't last a day with them, anyway. But that's not my point."

He stood up, and started slowly walking around the room.

"At first, I simply thought it was a hurricane myself. I thought we had been labeled as enemies of Mother Nature, or the fact that we just got off to a bad start. Hell, I believed everything."

He stopped at a shelf filled with various amounts of trinkets and trophies. Ton could only guess that these were souvenirs taken from the Eastern continents.

Kross picked one up, glancing at its dim, brass colored gleam. "And then I remembered the stories I heard. The ones about a god who ruled the storms."

"That's an Eastern fairy-tale, isn't it?" Ton inquired. "One that's used to frighten children from climbing up tall mountains in fear that they bring chaos to all those below them, correct?"

Kross nodded. "That's the one. I'm impressed that you've heard it, too."

Ton chuckled. "Well, I can understand people's suspicions, but I wouldn't say I believe it."

"Oh, but you ought to," Kross said. "This storm might be caused by that very god."

Kross set the trinket he had picked up back on the shelf. "This weather…it's too abnormal for a hurricane, especially at the elevation that we're at. Such a thing shouldn't even be possible for nature."

Ton sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Kross, don't tell me that we've managed to stumble into something based off a folk tale."

"Ton, you should know that early historians thought monsters were a myth."

Kross had turned in Ton's general direction, his one eye glaring.

"They said that whenever a Rathalos showed up in the skies, it was merely a figment of clouds. They said when a Tigrex stole a hunting party's prey, it was merely the fact that the hunting party lost it. They said when the first Hunters arrived, we would be hunting butterflies and cactus flowers."

Kross chuckled, a hint of malice draped in his voice.

"So when those same historians were slain and left impaled from a Diablos's horn, who do you think the commoners believed?"

Ton felt himself shudder. "What's your point, Kross?"

"What I'm saying is that while we may be better prepared and equipped, we shouldn't ignore even the slightest possibility that something will go wrong," Kross finished, standing next to all of them at the table.

He growled. "Prior to this, as I said, I thought the stories were only a rumor. But now I truly believe we're heading into trouble."

"Eh…what kind of trouble, monsieur?" Henri asked.

"Aye, surely you got somethin' that can give us'n idea of what we're dealin' with?" the captain asked.

Kross turned his eye to Ton.

Ton hesitated, and then sighed in defeat. "Very well, Kross. What do you suspect?"

Kross nodded. "During the time of the earliest settlers, there were those who thought of deities who lived among the tallest mountains, and had the power to generate storms."

He moved away, glancing outside the lone window, its pane getting heavily splashed with the rain's constant shower.

"The settlers had simply become too curious, as you would expect. A brave group of them had traveled up the mountain. Two days passed before any word was heard. Two of the possible eleven of them returned. Their clothes were ripped almost to shreds, and they looked as if they advanced several years in life. It was later proven that they had just been frightened for their lives, but what caused them to run was revealed later."

Kross continued to walk across the room.

"They said that they had crossed sacred ground belonging to a being with the ultimate power to rouse storms. They had explored a little bit longer, until they discovered the deity itself resting in the middle of a cave. The deity awoke, all of a sudden, but it didn't attack them. It watched, though I doubt it was out of curiosity. Many of the men watched the deity and noticed its pelt, and thought how rare and unfathomably comfortable it looked."

_The kind of anxiety that gets new Hunters killed…_ Ton thought bitterly.

Kross continued speaking. "Those men, save the two, wanted to gather its pelt and bring it back to the tribe as a token of gratitude. As you would expect, the two men who didn't agree thought that would be a bad idea. Who knows what power it is capable of? We shouldn't anger it; that kind of thing."

"And what happened to them?" Ton dared to ask.

Kross scoffed. "What do you expect? The other men ignored them and attacked the deity with stick and stones. The deity became enraged, and the two men said that it felt as if the heavens had become their enemy. The deity slew the other men in a matter of seconds, using its supposed power of the storms."

There was a pause.

Kross took a deep breath. "The other two men soon found themselves face-to-face with the deity. They swore they were going to die. Yet the deity spared them, with the intent of spreading a message. It blew them with a ferocious wind, sending sharp sticks and stones to scare away the men. They returned home without any further problems and told the tale. However, even after that fateful day, storms continued to ravage the village, and eventually the village dispersed to avoid the deity's wrath."

Kross returned to the table. "And I suspect that we might be heading into a hurricane caused by the same deity. Or Monster, if you will."

The captain looked shocked. "M-monster? How can ya be so sure?"

"Because, I highly doubt a god would waste its time among mortals. Make no mistake, there is possibly only one of this Monster, but that doesn't make it a deity." Kross growled. "It probably has had its battles. However, it's come to my attention that this Monster is mortal, too. It has to be."

"But, why?" Henri asked. "Why is it still around? Surely it cannot last this long. Even Monsters die of age, oui?"

Kross shook his head. "I don't know how to answer that. But I guarantee that even if it isn't the same one, it still has a grudge against humans. The ones who escaped in the story were just lucky."

Ton looked up, deciphering the story in his head. "Kross, did you ever happen to hear of its name?"

Kross gazed out the window again. His silence reverberated across the room. The sound of the rain crashing into the glass finally woke Kross from his daydreams.

He sat back down on the crate where he was before.

"Some simply call it the Storm Dragon. Others are feared enough to call it Heaven's Catastrophe."

"I'm aiming for its common name, Kross. Do you know it or not?" Ton demanded, a little annoyed.

Kross paused again, speaking its name in a low, and shallow tone.

"Amatsumagatsuchi."

* * *

><p>Jason barely had time to react as a rock sped right by his body. It crashed into a wall on the ship, sending a huge, gaping hole along with it.<p>

He could screams everywhere...

They sounded scared.

Frightened.

He shook his head furiously. Now was not the time!

Moving his way up the stern, he met with the captain, who was already breaking open locks to large chests that were bolted down to the ship. Inside them, Jason noticed a familiar black sheen echoing off of a gleaming surface.

_Cannonballs._

The captain started handing them to his men, and looked up.

"We need every man we can get, Hunter. And right now we could use a man on the Hunting Gong," he said fervently.

"What happened to the one already in charge of hitting it?" Jason inquired.

The captain gave orders to another crewman in his foreign tongue, and then turned back.

"A Delex bit his leg. Doctors told me that it shattered his bones completely as if it was glass. He's getting himself tendered below decks."

Jason nodded. "Hand me a pickaxe. I'll take over for him."

The captain nodded, and pointed to the front of the ship. "Much obliged, but the only ones we keep available are the ones up near the front. And with the Jhen ramming us now and then, not to mention the Delex who are constantly jumping aboard, it won't be an easy hike."

Jason had already fastened his shield to his left gauntlet, and pulled Chak-Chak with his right hand.

"Just give me the signal to nail it, okay?"

The captain nodded, adding knowingly: "You Hunters are somethin' else."

Jason jumped from the railing, landing onto the lower ground with a thud. Rotating Chak-Chak from its middle, he pushed past crewman on his way to the front of the ship.

The surrounding area that was the middle of the ship was in absolute pandemonium. Crewmen who weren't lying injured were either launching javelins or cannonballs at Jhen's tough hide, or trying to repel the massive school of Delex with flimsy spears. Jason knew that the crew wouldn't last long in their current condition if the Jhen Mohran wasn't driven off soon.

He sliced his way through a Delex whom had just leapt onto the ship with his sword; one of the three blades carving its way through the monster's jaw like paper. Keeping his sword distant to himself, he kicked another one, and then deflected one that had lunged at him with his shield.

The impact from the lunging Delex made him stagger slightly, and he forced himself to take a step back.

Jason understood how vulnerable, yet deadly, Delex could be on hard surfaces.

He twirled Chak-Chak in a circle, bringing its blade straight through the head of a flailing Delex, and pulled it out swiftly to hit another one that has attempted a lunge.

He careened his way forward, jumping over the body of a crewman.

Jason cringed at the sight. The crewman laid slain, his eyes clouded over and a nasty gash across his neck.

He shook his head, focusing on the task at hand. He was already halfway across the ship, but the swarm of Delex just kept their ruthless assault.

Turning to his right, he was slightly relieved that the Jhen remained along the ship's side, and for the moment was not physically attacking, save the rocks he hurled from his back.

But Jason knew that it wouldn't last for long. If he hit the ship directly with his body or tusks, Jason knew there would be a lot of obituaries to write back in Loc Lac.

He sliced a jumping Delex on its side, and hurled it into the sand. Turning around, he noticed two crewmen on the ground, trying to get an injured man to safety. Due to the movement of the ship and the impending danger of the Delex, they wouldn't get far, even if they ditched the injured man.

Jason sighed to himself. _I know I'm going to regret this…_

He ran to their side, checking on the injured man. "You guys need to get downstairs! The doctors can help your friend."

"Oh, that's a goddamn relief now, isn't it?" one of the crewman responded, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

The other one shook his head. "Forgive my friend here; this man we're carrying is his brother. The problem we're having is trying to move him to a nearby staircase, but the closest one is being surrounded by Delex."

Jason nodded. "Are there any small Barrel Bombs around here?"

The man pointed his head toward a crate next to him. "I was thinking the same thing, though I do not know if it is wise to activate one with the crew around."

Jason patted his shoulder. "Leave that to me. You just get ready to go on my mark."

Jason ripped open the crate, revealing two gritty looking Barrel Bombs. Most likely the dust had worn their use, but he could tell they would still get the job done.

Taking a small one with both his hands, he laid it on its side. Then, he grabbed a match from the crate.

He squinted, analyzing his shot. He needed to roll the bomb into the swarm of Delex blocking and thrashing about near the staircase, lest he misfire and send the bomb rolling somewhere else.

Nodding to the men, he lit the match and placed its flame on the rope that ignites the barrel.

"Get moving!"

He pushed the barrel, watching it sail along the ship into the crowd of Delex. There was a satisfying explosion, along with the sound of meat hitting the floor.

Jason cringed. For scavengers, Delex could sure make a mess.

He noticed the crewman bring the injured man below decks, and nodded to himself.

_Now…let's take care of Jhen._

He reached the switch known for activating the Hunting Gong. Sheathing Chak-Chak on his back, he searched desperately for a pickaxe. The screams coming from the crewman were getting louder, which meant there would soon be no more men willing to fight.

Jason smashed open a crate, but it only contained sand and layers of clothing. He hurled them away from him in frustration.

In his irritated state, he failed to hear the scuffling sounds coming from the deck above him. Jason looked up, but he did it too late. A Delex lobbed itself way too high and forward, and crashed into him.

The weight difference between them was extreme, since Jason in his full armor was possibly three times heavier, however the sudden shock to see a Delex on him made him lose his focus.

The Delex struggled and snapped at Jason fruitlessly, trying to aim at his armored helmet. Its jaw snapped and clacked together and it tried to aim for a small area of skin that was Jason's neck.

It wasn't until then that Jason knew he was in a really bad predicament. That area was one of the only exposed parts in a Hunter's armor. He tried to kick it off of him, but the Delex was positioned so awkwardly that he could not shake it off.

He rolled onto his side, trying to get an advantage by grabbing the Delex's jaw.

All of a sudden, there was a loud sound, like that of a gunshot. Jason shook the Delex's corpse off of him. A thick bullet was wedged into the back of its skull.

Jason looked up, seeing Matthew reload.

"Am I late?"

"Just a bit," Jason answered.

"No time to complain, then." Matthew said, tossing him a pickaxe. "I was among the crewmen downstairs, so we didn't exactly get the news that there was a Jhen behind us until we got rammed."

Jason caught the pickaxe. "I thought you said you were going to check on the weapons."

"I was. As it turns out, we're prepared for a counterattack," Matthew replied, crossing his arms. "This ship has more ammo then you could possibly imagine."

Jason blinked. "Wait, what do you mean? These ships are always armed for a battle."

"Not when they're taking us on a Quest like this. The ones you're thinking of are the ones going out to hunt a Jhen. We're not hunting him."

Jason checked the sturdiness of the pickaxe, not taking his eyes off Matthew. "What are you saying, Matt? You're not making any sense."

"What I'm getting at is, somebody prepared this ship in the scenario that we got attacked," Matthew said, matter-of-factly. "And who's supplying the resources for this Quest?"

"The…the Guild." Jason said. "Wait, are you telling me that they figured this would happen?"

"Yes, and I'm also guessing that they didn't want to warn us, in the scenario that we get knocked out and have to abandon the Quest."

Jason shook his head. "That makes no sense. If they wanted us to fail, they wouldn't have placed cannons and other weaponry on this ship."

"They're more focused on making us fail, can't you see?" Matthew said. "This ship is probably able to hold out on its own, by why wouldn't the Guild tell us that there might be a Jhen out here?"

Jason sighed. "I still don't understand."

Matthew sighed as well. "You know as well as I do how crooked and favoring the Guild is."

"And so they'd try to make us fail by…?"

"-by having Team Tank take the Quest after we failed, in order to line their pockets with zenny," Matthew finished. "I swear, I didn't think they had the gall to do something like this."

Jason stood in silence. "How did you figure that out?

"I may be young, but I can be a very good interrogator," Matthew said solemnly.

Jason growled, but shook his head. "We can't worry about this right now, though. You and I both know that this Jhen needs to go, whether alive or dead."

Matthew nodded in agreement. "So do we hit this thing or what?"

Jason shook his head. "The captain is the one to handle that. He'll give a signal, though I don't know how he'll do it."

Matthew shrugged. "Then I guess we'll have to wait for-"

The two hunters were interrupted by a loud and audible crack. The crack was led by an impact that sounded like a collision. Getting up from their slightly dazed states, they looked to the starboard side of the ship.

They stood in silence and shock as the Jhen moved away from the ship, huge pieces of wood sticking out of its skin.

And then all of a sudden, the ship started to swerve.

* * *

><p>Ton stood at the railing of the airship, the wind ringing in his ears as if he were listening to a choir of banshees.<p>

Kross stood next to him, his arms crossed.

Both Hunters had their helmets on, and their weapons were on their backs.

In front of them was the biggest wall of wind they had ever seen. It stayed still like a dome, yet its winds made it seem like it were moving at Mach speeds.

Ton shivered.

_The powers of the gods, huh?_

He hated to admit it, but right now it was looking as if Kross had been right about his intentions. This storm…it was anything but normal.

The rain had started pelting them sideways, and the wind would have knocked them down had they not have additional weight strapped onto them.

Kross nodded to the steersman, who for the most part looked scared out his wits.

"Take us in, nice and easy," he grunted.

The man looked at him as if he were joking, but the sight of Ton nodding his head at him in agreement made it look like he were about to cry.

The airship approached the hurricane's dome shaped cloud, its sails flapping and reacting in the wind.

Either they would get through it, or they would die horribly. But both Hunters would know that they had seen the worst of it in their days.

Ton turned to Kross. "Any ideas on what we do if we get inside…?"

Kross paused momentarily. Though Ton could not see it, he could tell Kross had grown that malicious grin that he knew for so long.

"Not a damn clue." was his reply.

And then the ship was enveloped in the swirling monstrosity of clouds.

* * *

><p>Time seemed to slow down as Ton fought to wake up. He shook his head vigorously, the ringing he had heard still stuck in his eardrums.<p>

Getting up, he looked around.

The area around him was surprisingly calm. He recognized that he was still on the airship, which relieved him to know that he hadn't died. The base of the ship was drenched in rainwater, and the wind had simply ceased.

Ton noticed Kross had just woken up himself, and was busy wiping the water from his armor.

"We're lucky that this armor serves as an anchor for us. We temporarily lost consciousness soon after entering…"

Ton shook his head. That would mean that they didn't fail the Quest, if it were terms of brief unconsciousness. As long as no medical help was given, it technically would not count as a defeat.

Ton regained his voice, noticing how raspy it was. "W-where are we?"

Kross pulled him up. "The eye of the storm."

Ton frowned. "Stop being cryptic."

Kross shook his head. "I'm serious. We just entered the eye of the hurricane."

Ton glanced around at the ship again. A few railings were missing from the sides on the ship, and some of the riggings along the sails looked as if they were ripped away, but otherwise the ship was still in one piece.

Ton turned back to the wheel. "The pilot…where's the…"

Ton stopped at the realization of what had happened. He and Kross had managed to stick around due to their armor. The ship's steersman wasn't so lucky.

Kross grunted, his Hammer hitting the deck. "Mourn him later. Something is coming."

Ton looked at him in shock. "How can you be..?"

Ton stayed silent as he saw what Kross was so hell-bent on looking at.

The clouds had drifted apart around a gleaming white form. Its mass was unfathomable; it was at least the size of the ship. The wind seemed to softly hum its way around the majestic being. Its pelt gleamed in the light bouncing off of the clouds, and its claws seemed to whisk the mist around it. Upon its face appeared to be a mustache, though it showed its wisdom, instead of ridiculing it. It appeared like some sort of amphibian, but one could clearly see that it could fly.

Its eyes were filled with a cautious look, as if calculating what they were doing. It reached the port side of the ship, an eerie silence following it.

The silence continued. Ton noticed that Kross was shaking slightly.

"Is that…?"

Kross regained his composure briefly, his hands trembling in either anticipation or fright, Ton didn't know.

"It is. It's Amatsumagatsuchi, the Storm Dragon."

Both Hunters could speak no further words, and their hearts skipped a beat…

Amatsumagatsuchi roared.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

_You guys should really go hear that roar if you haven't already. It gives me goosebumps._

_In other news, I'm doing my best to find more time to write for you guys. I hope this chapter satisfies your needs! _

_~MetallicVolume_


End file.
